


Red Shift

by LittleSpacePrince



Series: Canis Majoris [6]
Category: Adam (2009), Charlie Countryman (2013), Hannibal Extended Universe - Fandom
Genre: Alpha Nigel (Charlie Countryman), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Infertility, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Miscarriage, Mpreg, Omega Adam, Omega Adam Raki, Omega Verse, but primarily smut and angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 01:09:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13729920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSpacePrince/pseuds/LittleSpacePrince
Summary: redshift[red-shift]noun Astronomy.a shift toward longer wavelengths of the spectral lines emitted by a celestial object that is caused by the object moving away from the earth.





	Red Shift

The house stayed silent for three days.

Nigel had once figured that it wasn’t much home unless there was a constant stream of noise from Adam. The clicking of keys, or speak of starlight, or the quiet, breathy moans of his omega pinned beneath him. But the house stayed nearly silent, save for wandering footsteps every now and again. Adam stayed in bed most of the time, abandoning routine in favor of sleep, consciousness being too painful to endure. Nigel wandered aimless as a ghost, trying to find any form of distraction, but nothing seemed to be able to hold his attention for that long. He always came back to Adam, back to the suffering that he was enduring, back to the helpless feeling that he got when he saw Adam curled up in bed, silently staring out the window, or crying, or sleeping in the middle of the day. 

Mornings were the worst of it. That moment between waking and sleeping, that moment when dreams are confused with reality, when nothing can quite register yet, there was this moment that never failed to come back. A moment before he remembered what had happened, a moment before the reality set in and the memories came back. A moment when his eyes would find Adam, eyes still closed and breathing still shallow. A moment when he would stare in amazement at his omega, the man that was going to stand by him until their dying days, the man that he had marked, the man that had marked him… The man that would bring his children into the world.

And then the illusion would shatter.

It broke into a million pieces and Nigel’s heart would break all over again. He would curse himself and roll out of bed without a word, because Adam hardly spoke anymore. And they would exist in this broken quiet, sunup to sundown, sunrise to sunset, haunting the halls like ghosts, like shells of what they had once been. All of the joy that had once filled these rooms had fled them in their despair, and the starry skies that had once kept them alight were now full of clouds. 

The pain almost felt like a broken heart, like losing someone who had always been there. It felt like the same sort of pain that he’d suffered after Gabi had left him the first time. The pain of a broken heart. It was as though the heart and soul had been sucked from the four walls, and they had become ghosts, damned to wander the hallways that they had once known. Damned the haunt the flat that they had once called home. It seemed an unjust fate to be damned to, an unfair life to live. It was as if they had lost someone who had never been there to begin with, mourning the death of an idea that they had fallen too recklessly in love with. 

Adam didn’t want to talk about it. He wanted to collapse in on himself, make himself as small as he possibly could, almost as though he had never even existed in the first place. The very thought of it pained him, to the point where he felt as though he could sleep for an eternity. Waking was the worst of it. There was a split moment in the mornings, before he opened his eyes, when he would hold the hope that he had held before. There was always this jolt in the pit of his stomach, a joyous little leap at the rising of the sun, because he had been so happy. A joyous little leap at the fact that everything had changed for the better, a joyous little leap at the fact that he was an omega, and he had an alpha that loved him, and that they were going to have a family. That joyous little leap felt like a residual instinct from the weeks he had spent in ignorant bliss, and there was a moment that he would believe that joyous little leap, until he opened his eyes and he remembered. 

He didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want to speak. He didn't want to move. He wondered if he would stay there for eternity, wallowing in his own misery, until Nigel left him for someone else. Perhaps they would just return to the original unspoken plan. Perhaps this was how it was always supposed to end. Silence, depression, inadequacy, deficiency, until Nigel finally left and lived the life that he truly deserved. And perhaps, Adam would let it happen. 

It was the morning of the fourth day that he started to feel it. Discomfort, more than anything. An ache in his back, a tightness in the pit of his belly, a frustrated restlessness, an inability to get comfortable. He had hoped that maybe the trauma of what had happened to him would delay it, that he wouldn’t have to deal with perhaps the most intense reminder of what they had lost, but it didn’t seem that they would find themselves so lucky. He could feel it. Adam was beginning to go into heat again.

Seemed altogether pointless now. The entire point was to promote conception, an ingenious biological mechanism to perpetuate the race, a nearly irresistible drive to procreate between alpha and omega. But it was entirely pointless now, with his inability to produce life. It was just a pointless reminder of his shortcomings. 

Still, the discomfort was too much to simply stay silent about. Besides, Nigel deserved to know. He would be going into his rut, and eventually, their own biology would force them together. There would be no say in the matter, no stopping it for sake of their own petty traumas. Adam’s fingers traced circles into the sheets, a subtle sort of stim as the anxiety grew in the pit of his chest as he tried to force the words up his throat and out of his mouth. 

“Nigel…” He croaked, quietly, just loud enough to be heard through the silent house. His voice came out hoarse with such underuse, throat sore and dry as he gulped down hard. He’d hardly been out of bed, Nigel having had to force him to eat and drink, just enough to sustain his own life. It didn’t keep him from getting dehydrated, though, not with the crying on top of it all. His mouth was dry, and pain ripped through him. And yet, for the first time since the meltdown, he felt almost alive again. 

“Angel?” Nigel called back as he stepped into the room, voice quiet, footsteps tentative. 

Adam forced himself to sit up, entire body aching as his bones shifted. His head felt heavy, and every limb felt as though it weighed a thousand pounds, but still, he forced himself to move, forced himself to look up at his alpha, even if the very sight of him hurt. But then again, what didn’t hurt these days? What didn’t find one way or another to serve as a painful reminder of all that they had lost?

“I think I’m going into heat.” Adam mumbled. He didn’t even want to say it, not with the pang of guilt that came with the word. He shouldn’t have been going into heat this month. If his body had worked the way it was supposed to, if he weren’t so defective, if he hadn’t lost the child that had been conceived during his first heat, then he wouldn’t have been going into it now. He pulled his knees into his chest, burying his face between them, not wanting to look at Nigel any longer, not wanting to face him. 

“Right now?” Nigel inquired, a sense of urgency pulling in his voice. He certainly didn’t look like an omega in heat, far too composed for that. But who knew? It was Adam, after all. Never one for the usual course of action. 

“Not immediately. Soon, though. Today, I think.” Adam answered quietly, shortly. 

Nigel nodded slightly before taking a seat at the edge of his bed, not coming too close, knowing to keep his distance when Adam was in this sort of mood. His eyes glanced over his boy, studying over every last inch of him and barely recognizing what he saw. His usual unruly curls were greasy and flat, sticking to his forehead. His face was hidden, buried between his knees, but Nigel had caught sight of the dark circles beneath those blue eyes. His scent reeked, filling the room, almost suffocatingly so. This merely seemed a shell of the boy that he had loved so much, for so long. The very sight of him was heart-wrenching.

“It’ll be okay, sparrow. I promise, I’ll take good fucking care of you.” Nigel vowed. Adam didn't respond, didn't look up, only nodding slightly in acknowledgment. 

What had become of them? What had become of their joy, of their passion, of this light that had filled them only days before? Did it really rest within the hope for a family, a future, a dream, an idea? Did it truly rest in a hastily-made decision, made under the haze of heat, clung to when the air cleared? Could it truly be so easily broken with a mere change of plans, a mere shift in direction? 

Nigel didn't think so. They had been happy before, before he'd presented, before the ideas of family. In gentle touches and passing kisses and hands held so tightly he thought they might shatter, they had been so fucking happy. Before the idea of mating and breeding and fucking pups had even crossed their minds, they'd found joy. And they could find it again. Nigel was fucking determined to find it again, or die searching for it. 

“Can I touch you?” Nigel inquired softly. 

Adam didn't look up. He didn't move. He didn't pull from his position to lean into his Nigel’s chest, badly as he wanted to. He wanted to cling to his alpha again, but something kept him back. Something like guilt, or misery, or anxiety, or brokenness. He wanted to hold tight to the only man that had ever known him in this way, the only man he had ever cared to learn inside and out. He wanted to go back to the way things were. But there was no going back. There was no returning. So instead, he stayed put. Instead, he just nodded. 

Slowly, the alpha ran a hand through his hair, pulling close to his omega. He didn't react, didn't pull closer, didn't melt into his touch like her normally did, but he didn't pull away. It was a start, at least. He let his hands roam Adam’s body, until they rested on his knees. Adam was wearing Nigel’s old flannel pajama bottoms, and one of his old t-shirts, as if holding onto the clothes rather than the man. As if he was stuck somewhere between, unable to touch him, unable to stay away, so he settled for some compromise. Nigel ran his thumb over his knee, tracing circles into the fabric as they sat in silence. 

Adam was rarely so silent. Sure, he went quiet, but there was always a buzz about him. A sort of vibration, energy that radiated from him in ways Nigel didn't know how to put into words. But it was as if all of the life had been drained from him and the buzz had gone quiet. Now he sat still and silent as the fucking grave, and Nigel was left trying to wake the dead. 

“Why don't we get you in the bathtub? Get you cleaned up before your heat starts.” Nigel suggested quietly after a few minutes had passed. 

There was a pause, a lull, a silence that they kept returning to, over and over and over again. But it only lasted a moment, just a moment of hesitation, before Adam finally said, “Okay.”

Nigel rose to his feet, and Adam slowly followed. Every inch of him felt sore and heavy, but he followed him, forced from the bed to follow his alpha. He supposed that he would always come back to this, back to Nigel’s side, up until the moment that he left, until the moment that Adam found himself alone again. As much as he tried to pull away, Nigel was his alpha, and he would always fall weak to him. He would always end up right here. 

Nigel’s fingers grazed against his gently against Adam’s, slowly lacing his fingers through the omega’s. Palms pressed together, fingers laced tightly, hands holding them together, small touches being all that kept Adam from falling apart. His hands scarred and rough and familiar and _his._ How strange, how the brush of fingertips could give him the strength to go on. How strange, how the brush of fingertips could remind him just how in love he was. How strange, how such a simple touch could remind him just badly this was going to hurt. 

Nigel leaned forward, starting the water with his free hand, not daring to let go of his omega. He held on tight, refusing to let go, refusing to let him drift back into the dark, unsure if he would ever come back if he did. Nigel turned back to him, pulling him tightly into his chest as the sound of water hitting the bottom of the tub filled the room. Adam stayed still, silent, not melting into his touch as he once would have. Still, Nigel would hold on, do whatever he could to coax him out of the dark. 

His shirt came first as Nigel stripped him bare, tossing it aside. Adam had always been small, but he looked almost sickly now, ribs poking out from beneath flesh from days of hardly eating. His pants came second, revealing pale, wobbling legs as he struggled to hold his own weight. His cock was half hard, trapped beneath boxer shorts, though it was nothing more than a physical reaction to his impending heat. Slowly, Nigel pulled the boxers away and left Adam standing bare before him, staring blankly off into the distance. 

It wasn't sexual. It almost felt clinical, without fire or passion that usually came with stripping off clothes. It was as if that body had never known his touch, all of the fingerprint bruises that had once left constellations in his skin fading quickly. Even his half-hard cock looked chaste, the life stripped from his bones in every way imaginable. And yet, he was still Adam. And Nigel, without hesitation or second thought, without grievance and without doubt, undeniably, undoubtedly, irrevocably, unconditionally loved Adam Raki. 

“Come on, sparrow.” Nigel murmured, guiding him toward the tub, steadying him as the omega lowered himself into the water. Adam’s arms wrapped around his knees, pulling them into his chest as he pulled his hand from Nigel’s. 

Adam stayed silent as Nigel poured the water over his bare flesh, as his fingers ran through his hair, as he stripped the sweat and tears and dirt from his skin. He stayed silent as the water grew cloudy, stayed silent as Nigel’s hands drifted over every inch of him, stayed silent as he vied for some sort of attention. He stayed silent as the alpha whispered silent promises, solemn vows sure to be broken.

“Do you still love me, Adam?” Nigel finally whispered, fingers running through the omega’s hair. In his silence, the alpha almost couldn't tell anymore. 

“Yes.” 

He meant it, too. With all that was in him, he meant it. He loved Nigel with all that was in him, more than he had ever loved anyone before. He loved Nigel more than the stars, more than the galaxies, more than the void that he had dedicated his entire life to. He loved Nigel in a way that he had never thought possible. He loved Nigel with all of his heart, all of his mind, all of his soul, with every fibre of his being. And with that love, he would let him go. 

“You know I’m not going anywhere, right?” Nigel vowed. He knew exactly what Adam was doing, and why. And if it took every last breath in his lungs to make him believe that he was going nowhere, if it took every last ounce of strength to convince him not to retreat into the dark, Nigel would give it. “You don’t have to push me away. I’m not gonna leave you.” 

“You should.” Adam mumbled.

“I don't think I should. I choose you, Adam Raki. Kids or no kids, big family or just me and you, I choose you, every single time.” His arms wrapped around Adam’s shoulder, hardly minding the water soaking through his clothes. “I chose you a long time ago.” 

The tears began to gather in the omega’s eyes, leaning back into his alpha’s chest. Nigel was foolish for staying, and Adam was selfish for letting him. The pain would eventually tear them apart, he was certain of it. It would grow and it would fester until it all turned sour, until they both shattered, until there was no way of being put back together again. But still, Adam leaned into his alpha’s embrace, even as the tears began to fall, holding on just a while longer. Holding on until the love turned to resentment, holding on until it all fell apart. 

Nigel peppered his face with kisses, in some desperate attempt to make him know that he loved him. Adam had never known a love like theirs before, had never known such commitment. But Nigel was determined to show him what it meant to be loved, determined to show him unconditional, unwavering love. 

“I'm gonna go clean up, alright?” He mumbled, lips pressed against his ear. “Get everything ready, make sure you're comfortable when you go into heat. Okay?”

Adam simply nodded, and Nigel rose to his feet. His clothes and arms were wet, and he let them be, not caring enough to change, or dry himself off. He glanced back as he turned toward the door, watching as his omega curled in on himself again, knees pressed hard into his chest. He wondered if the boy that he'd fallen in love with still lurked beneath the surface, or if he was merely a shell of what he'd once been. He wondered if Adam had died with their child, or if he still lived. 

He damn well fucking hoped for the latter. 

He worked quickly, not wanting to leave him alone for too long. Weighted blankets, unwashed clothes, whatever would remind him of home, of what home had once been. He gathered it up quickly, sorting through it to build his omega a nest, where he could stay and heal throughout the duration of his heat. It was going to be uncomfortable, and heartbreaking, and painful, but he could at least give him this. Adam had spent all of Nigel’s ruts trying to help, trying to keep him as comfortable as possible, and with all that the omega had been through, it was the least that he could do.

Perhaps over-dramatic, perhaps more than he would’ve ever done for anyone other than Adam fucking Raki, he dimmed the bedroom lights and pulled his lighter from his pocket. Adam kept candles around the house; the kid had strong associations with different scents, and he always made sure to keep the good-memory candles around the house, the best ones staying in the bedroom. One by one, Nigel lit them, the dim light flickering through the dark room as he pulled the curtains shut, deciding that they could at least try for some sort of good, some sort of romance. Something to make things a bit less obligatory. 

He stood admiring his work for a moment, just as a cry ripped through the house. Sharp and desperate, his name echoed through the quiet halls of their home, his sparrow calling out for him. And within a moment, he was off, sprinting back toward the bathroom, back to the side of his omega.

The scent of heat hit him like a tidal wave as he opened the door, pulling like a trigger as the haze and ache began in the back of his own head. He felt lightheaded as the blood rushed south, but he forced himself to focus, eyes finding Adam in the bathtub, squirming uncomfortably in the water as his fingers pushed down between his thighs. He was whimpering in his discomfort, far worse than his first heat. The first time, it was overwhelming, scary, but it didn't hurt him, not truly. This time, though, Adam was in _pain._

 _“Fuck.”_ Nigel swore, leaning down and hoisting the boy out of the tub, back into his arms, right where he had always belonged. Adam’s legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he shifted and squirmed, trying to appease the ache for friction. Nigel could feel the omega’s cock throbbing against his stomach through wet clothes, slick leaking down his thighs, making a mess of both of them. He was burning hot, fevered and horny, and Nigel could barely keep himself from dropping him right there and plowing him into the bathroom floor. 

_“Hurts,_ Nigel.” Adam whimpered, burying his face into the crook of his alpha’s neck. He could feel Nigel’s arousal pressing between his thighs, could smell it on him, the touch only making him hungrier for it. The bulge in the alpha’s trousers, hard and warm, pushed up against him, and the very feeling of it pressing against his fluttering hole drew a whine from his throat, needing to be filled by it, by him. His mind was clouded with need, all previous reservations slipping through his fingers like sand, he clung tightly to his alpha, disregarding all that happened for the sake of his mate. The miscarriage, the infertility, the mess that had been his emotions, they all drowned beneath the maxim of _alpha, Nigel, breed, alpha, Nigel, breed._

“I know, sparrow, I’ve got you. I'm gonna take good fuckin’ care of you.” Nigel vowed as he dropped the boy onto the bed, spreading him out on the sheets beneath him, settling him in the makeshift nest that he’d built. He ripped off his shirt, jeans following suit, not wasting a moment as he stripped himself bare, not wasting a moment to go balls-deep inside of his omega. Uncomfortable as it was, painful as it was, there were few sensations to compare to the need, the want, the carnality of heat. Few sensations that could even begin to feel as good. 

_“Alpha…”_ Adam whined, bucking up into Nigel’s touch as the elder man settled in between his thighs. He rolled himself forward, yearning for friction, yearning for touch. Suddenly, nothing mattered anymore. Nothing but sex, and knotting, and breeding, returning to some primal state. It hurt more than his first heat, clawing in his chest, entire body aching for his touch, haze clouding his mind to a point where he was overcome by it, overwhelmed by it, drowning in it. _“Please,_ Nigel, need you.” 

He could hear Nigel swear, fingers slipping down between his legs, brushing against his stiff cock as pre-cum leaked over his belly. Slick leaked onto the blankets beneath him, thighs soaked as his body begged to be fucked and filled. Adam let out a moan as his alpha pressed two fingers past his rim, disregarding any sort of foreplay, knowing that neither of them could handle any more waiting, any more hesitation. Normally, there would’ve been plenty of preparation, but under the haze and desperation of heat, the rules tended to change. 

“Do you know how fucking perfect you are, angel?” Nigel mused, fingers opening him quickly, though each passing second felt like an eternity. Adam let out a small whine as Nigel's fingers pumped furiously into his weeping hole, desperate for friction, desperate for pleasure. Nigel came closer, picking up speed as his lips grazed against pale flesh. “Tell me what you need, sparrow.”

“Prostate.” Adam mumbled, adjusting to the feeling of fullness again. He wanted to feel the press of fingers against the spot that never failed to make him beg for it, wanted to feel his alpha teasing at the little nub that always made him moan. And in just a muttered word, Nigel happily obliged, fingers crooked inside of him as he began to rub, a strangled cry escaping from Adam’s lips. His back arched sharply as he pushed against Nigel’s hand, muscles contracting desperately around his digits. 

Nigel stood captivated by the filthy little angel squirming beneath him. Free of reservation and inhibition, Adam came back to him, emerging from the shell that had formed around him. Nigel scissored the boy open quickly, succumbing to his lusts, knowing that neither of them would be able to keep this up much longer. Adam needed to be knotted, and Nigel needed to knot, both slaves to their own primal urges as they devolved back into these patterns of heat and rut. Slick dripped down his wrist as he pushed deeper into him, trying to appease the boy’s ache, trying to prepare him for what was to come. His lips found their way down Adam’s chest as he added a third finger, breathy, desperate noises escaping from the omega’s throat, fingers tightening around the sheets. _Stunning._

Adam’s mind was clouded and dizzy with his need, intoxicated by the brush of Nigel’s fingers moving inside of him. For a moment, there was no more logic, no more memories, no more guilt or devastation, and there was only Nigel and the sheets beneath them. His back arched sharply with every tormenting tease of his alpha’s fingertips against his prostate, steady contractions of his hole clenching tight around Nigel’s digits. His teasing tongue worked its way over his torso, kissing down his chest, nipping lightly at the stiff, pink nubs. It was heaven and it was hell, altogether overwhelming, and somehow still not nearly enough. 

“‘m ready, alpha.” Adam moaned, rolling back against his fingers, desperate for more. It was an ache, burning in his bones, desperate to be filled to his maximum, until he was bursting. He needed to be taken and knotted and filled, needed to be fucked and bred, filled with his alpha’s seed, just as nature had intended. “I need you.” 

A low growl erupted from the alpha’s chest at his words, possessive and desperate as he pulled his fingers from the omega’s weeping hole. His hands gripped tight at the boy’s thighs, leaving fingerprint bruises beneath them as he tugged him closer, pushing his knees apart and pulling them up. The sight beneath him was one of true obscenity, one that could have made him come right there and then at a very glance. Adam’s pink rim puffy and leaking, slick gushing from him as an open invitation, twitching with his need, his biological instincts to be fucked and filled. His cock was rock fucking hard, pre-cum leaking over his belly, ruddy and stiff, head fat and shiny and altogether obscene. His skin was flushed and hot, beaded with sweat as he writhed beneath him, toes curling tight with every second that Nigel stood to watch. Nipples perked and stiff, fussy noises escaping his throat, arching back and writhing limbs, as if another moment without his alpha’s knot buried deep within him might lead to his very demise. The sinner counted himself unworthy to be in the very presence of the very heaven that he beheld. 

Adam glanced between his thighs, up toward the alpha that held his ankles apart, high above his head. Nigel looked feral, and Adam was certain that he looked much in the same. It took all that was in him to wait, all that was in him not to reach down and press his own fingers into himself in some futile attempt to satiate. He watched as Nigel reached down to give himself a cursory pump, a sight that drew a whine from his throat. As much as he could, Adam wriggled and writhed, presenting himself further to the alpha, hoping that the sight of his gushing hole would hurry him along. 

Nigel let out a possessive growl, lining himself up with the boy’s twitching hole. He could feel the omega throbbing against the brush of his cock, another bout of slick leaking from him, inviting him inside. He cursed quietly, and decided to damn the reasons for this. Futile attempts at insemination fueled by primal necessity or not, Nigel counted himself a damn lucky man. No matter the unfortunate circumstances they found themselves in, Nigel was fucking blessed by whatever gods he didn’t believe in when Adam fucking Raki stumbled into his life. 

Adam let out a cry as Nigel pushed, bottoming out inside of him. It was tight, leaving him full to bursting, but the omega relished every second of it, the feeling nearly enough to satiate every need. His back arched sharply as Nigel fell over him, strong hands pulling the omega’s legs tight back around his waist. Adam let his ankles cross, pulling him in tighter, not daring to let him escape or pull away. He needed to be filled, needed to be seeded, needed to be bred. 

“Need you, alpha.” Adam mumbled, hazy, almost sleepy, like his body was buzzing and his mind was falling behind. His fingers laced tight through Nigel’s hair, grappling himself to the alpha, the only thing that made him feel alive. “Need you to fill me up. Need you to breed me.” 

Nigel’s heart leapt in his chest before shattering. He had been going into rut for years, and near incoherence was part of the deal, but he knew his way around it better than Adam did. Adam was succumbing quickly to whims and fantasies, impossibilities begging to become reality under the incessant urge of biology. Fucking heat was making his boy damn near delirious, until he forgot the prognosis, until he forgot that a pregnancy wouldn't take, that his body wouldn't carry. Adam couldn't think straight beyond these primal desires, and who was Nigel to tell him otherwise? 

Adam whined as the alpha’s lips clamped down around the flesh of his throat, suckling bruises as he began to thrust, setting a hard, steady pace. The omega’s cock throbbed hard between them, rubbing hot between their bellies as Nigel pushed into him. The alpha’s hands pinned Adam's wrists to the bed, holding him down as he plowed deep into his twitching hole. He was a writhing mess beneath his alpha, surrendering to his complete control as Nigel began to thrust more furiously into him, nudging against his cervix with every thrust of his hips. 

“Gonna fill you up, angel. Gonna make you fucking swell with my pups. Gonna put my babies in your belly.” He groaned, strangling the thoughts of reason in favor of blissful irrationality. He could feel his knot beginning to form at the base of his cock, and knew that neither one of them would be lasting much longer. “Such a good omega… Such a good fucking omega.” 

Adam’s cock twitched hard with each quiet word of praise and promise. The alpha’s voice, with every filthy detail spilling from his tongue, never failed to bring Adam to his completion, breaking him down until he was on the brink of his orgasm. He buried his face into the crook of Nigel’s neck as he set a brutal pace, each thrust pointedly rubbing against his prostate, the cycle repeated until he was practically screaming. 

Nigel speared deep into his omega’s fertile body - no, not fertile. Should have been, but wasn't. He pushed his fingers through his curls in an attempt to console, some attempt at comfort as his cock nudged against his cervix, feeling it contract and tighten with each nudge. He knew that it would inevitably relax and contract, drinking in and absorbing the alpha’s semen in attempts of promoting conception once they both came, could remember the feeling from his omega’s first heat. 

The first time, he had been in heaven, not once considering that anything could possibly go awry. Adam pinned beneath him, loud enough to wake neighbors through thin walls, the two of them lusting to breed as they succumbed fully to their primal intuitions for the first time, falling in together as they mated. Now, Nigel knew better, still able to keep his head on straight enough to know that it would only ever be fantasy. 

Adam, though, was too fevered. Too delirious to realize what he was saying. And each little whimper and plea left Nigel closer to the brink of tears. He had tried so hard to be strong, but he found himself weaker than he ever had been, unable to keep himself together as his omega begged for things he couldn't give him. 

“Want to give you a litter, Nigel. Want to carry your pups. Want you to be proud of me.” Adam mused, too far gone to think about what he was saying. All he knew was that every strand of DNA in him was screaming for him to breed, every part of his biology begging him to conceive and carry his alpha’s brood.

There was something sad in the way that he said it. As if something in him remembered, somewhere, that he wouldn’t be able to give all that he wanted to give. As if some of him could still feel his own perceived inadequacy, even through his heat-fogged brain. The very way he said it drew a twinge of pain from Nigel’s chest.

“I’m already proud of you, sparrow. More than you could ever know.” Nigel murmured, redoubling his efforts as he clung tighter to the omega beneath him. 

Adam let out a fussy noise, knees tightening around Nigel’s waist, his ankles locked tightly behind his back, making certain that he didn’t pull away. He buried his face into his neck, the scent of his rutting alpha nearly intoxicating, nearly enough to let him drown in it. He needed his knot, needed to feel hot semen coating his insides, needed to feel his seed filling his womb, needed to revel in his own fertilization, needed to fulfill his own biological duties. Nigel’s words blurred beneath the buzzing in his ears, leaving something of pleasant, incoherent symphony. 

_“Please,_ Nigel.” He mewled, begging for it. He could hardly stand it any longer, hardly wait another second. He needed it, needed to feel the thick base of Nigel’s cock catching at his rim, needed to feel the damp warmth of seed flooding through him. Every passing second left him more and more impatient, the ache growing between his thighs. He was frustrated and horny and needed more than what he was getting, desperate to the point of grovelling, begging for mercy, begging for release. “I need you. Need your knot.” 

Nigel let out a growl, delivering blow after blow into him with each syllable spoken. Soft pleas from his omega left him aching and damn near knotting, but he wasn't quite done with him yet. Adam had gone silent for three days, his sparrow’s chirps hushed in his mourning, quieted in his grief. For the first time in three days, Adam was being his noisy little self, crying out in his joy rather than agony, in pleasure rather than sorrow. And Nigel was damned well determined to keep him moaning and squirming as long as he could. As long as it filled the silence. 

“I've got you angel. Gonna knot you. Gonna paint your insides with my fuckin’ cum. Gonna put my baby in your belly. Gonna make your belly swell up with my litter.” Nigel grunted, each little lie killing him a little more inside. They didn't lie to each other, had vowed to it, but this certainly felt like lying. Making promises he knew damn fucking well he couldn't keep. Still, they tumbled from his lips and he let them, savoring in Adam’s breathy little moans, and the tightening of his knees, holding him closer and closer. “You're gonna grow so big for me, angel, gonna carry my pups, and I'm gonna be so fucking proud of you. _God,_ I'm so fucking proud of you.”

He didn't make a noise as the tears began to fall. Slow, silent, steadily dripping from his nose and onto the pillow beneath him. All of the things he had wanted, all of the ideas he mourned for, all of the empty shells of promises broken, it all came crashing down on him like a tidal wave. But he stayed quiet. He stayed strong. Because fuck knew that Adam needed him to. 

“Feels so good Nigel. Wanna have your pups.” Adam moaned. His voice was hoarse and the unrestrained noises that flowed like rivers from his lips came out in whimpers as Nigel slowed his pace. He rutted into him, hips jerking as his knot began to pull at his rim. There was a certain stretch that Adam savored, knowing that Nigel was nearing his climax and just barely hanging on. Knowing that there would be a hard stretch as Nigel pushed his swollen knot all the way in and they locked, unable to move apart until it deflated. _Oh,_ they were getting _so close…_

At the sound of his mewls, Nigel redoubled his efforts, thrusting hard and fast into him until his thrusts became messy and uncoordinated, hardly able to keep himself steady above his boy. Adam’s filthy little moans turned to screams, not of agony, not of heartbreak, but of pleasure. There was something so fucking sweet in hearing those cries again, something so fucking good about his lapse in memory. Almost as if they had returned to the way things had once been, the way they should've always been. 

Adam grew closer to the brink of his orgasm, his penis - _cock_ \- throbbing hard between them, slick leaking copiously over the alpha’s knot as it swelled and teased at his rim, threatening to lock at any moment. His body instinctively prepared to take it, as it always did, rim wet and plush and inviting, thighs spread and locked around him. This was how nature had intended things to be, providing intense means of encouraging procreation for the continuation of the species. This was exactly how they were supposed to be. 

Nigel had always been a good alpha. Knew exactly where to touch him, knew exactly how to make him squirm, knew exactly how to strike that one spot tucked inside of him until he was screaming. He pulled himself up, pushing up against the force of his hips, leaning into brutal thrusts, coaxing his knot, begging for him to finally lock with him, to seed his womb. He needed it. _Oh,_ he needed it. 

“‘Bout to knot, angel.” Nigel groaned, grabbing tighter to his hips as he buried his nose into the crook of Adam’s neck, inhaling his scent. It hadn't been this strong since his first heat, fucking intoxicating, so thick he could've drowned in it. “Gonna come inside. Gonna stuff you fuckin’ full. I'm gonna breed you, angel.”

With that, Adam came with a shout. He seized hard, back arching, every muscle in him tensing as he ejaculated, hot and sticky between them. His entire pelvic floor seemed to contract, hard, as his muscles began to throb. His penis twitched and leaked and sputtered between them until all of his semen was coaxed from him. His hole began to contract around Nigel’s rutting cock, throbbing and squeezing in an attempt to coax the alpha’s knot into him, in an attempt to make him latch. 

And as his climax seemed to settle, Nigel at last came, knot catching at his rim as the warm rush of semen flooded him. With that, his excitement renewed, entire body overcome with the throbbing, overwhelming sensation as his head fogged with hormones. The damp warmth pooling in his belly drew a choked cry from him, too breathless to release it as he spasmed and jerked beneath him. Fingers clawing down Nigel’s back, ankles hooked tightly as the alpha burrowed deep within him, breathless in his claiming. He was marked. He was seeded. He was claimed. 

Nigel growled as he burrowed himself as deep as he could possibly get, nudging up hard against the boy’s cervix. He could feel the pulsating dilation and contraction of it against the ruddy head of his cock as hot, white ropes of semen coated his womb. He rocked into him, hips giving a few weak, sputtering thrusts, trying to get deeper, almost like he was trying to climb inside of his boy as he pumped his seed deep into him. He shuddered hard, breath catching in his throat as he buried his face into Adam’s neck, inhaling him deeply, holding onto his scent. Holding onto the moment. 

Slowly, the moment did end though. The hormones subsided and the fog cleared and the throes of passion quieted again. And then, it all came rushing back, striking him square in the center of his chest as if for the first time. The miscarriage, the cysts, the infertility, the failure, the pain, the tears. His chest ached as his grip loosed on Nigel. If Nigel was speaking, Adam couldn't hear him over the pounding of his pulse in his ears. 

He remembered the things he'd said under the haze of heat, all the promises that had been made only to be broken, and he felt sick. Defective omega, broken omega, unable to fulfill his duties, unable to be a good omega for his alpha. He pulled back, lying stiff as he could beneath him, just until his knot deflated and he could get away. Suddenly, the warmth in the pit of his belly felt like hell, a cruel reminder of what couldn't possibly be. 

Nigel had murmured all of these things, all of these promises that should've come to fruition. He should've been able to fuck him full, watch him swell, feel the pride growing with each expanding inch until the day he brought their child into the world. But he couldn't do any of the things that he wanted to, and it was Adam’s fault. How dare he keep him there, let him stay, let him sacrifice for the sake of a defective omega. How dare he be so selfish. 

The tears didn't come until later though. He lay in silence, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for his knot to deflate, and the inevitable gush of semen flowing from his hole before he ran, locked himself away for the rest of his heat, and then left. He would leave. He would spare him the pain. He would be selfless and spare Nigel the suffering that always surrounded him. He lay silent, barely breathing, barely existing. 

“Adam… Adam, baby, please… Please, don't do this to me. Don't leave me.” Nigel pleaded. He could feel Adam pulling away, back into his own head, back into the dark. The silence crept back through the halls as he held tighter to his boy, feeling his writhing, fevered body go stiff and cold. Adam, who had, for a moment, been himself again, retreated back into himself as soon as the fog cleared and clarity came again. 

Nigel clenched his jaw as his body began to tremble, eyes squeezing shut with the force of the tears building behind them. Nigel had spent so much of his life fighting to be seen as fearless, as strong and stoic and violent, one not to be betrayed. He didn't let himself cry, not even in the face of bullet-holes and stab-wounds. But now, as his omega pulled back from him, he cried. A sob was drawn from him as his arms wrapped tight around him, trying desperately to bring him back, vying for his affection. But even still, Adam lay still. 

He would've damned it all. He would've sold his soul if it meant Adam would come back to him, happy, full of life, full of that joy that they had found before. He would have plunged himself into hell if it meant just a few more moments with his Adam, would’ve swam laps in the lake of fire if it meant that Adam could spend the rest of his days happy. He would've damned himself to eternities of torture if it meant that Adam fucking Raki never had to face another day of heartache again. 

Adam felt the tears spilling onto bare flesh, but he didn't move. He could make out muffled pleas beneath the pounding of his heart, but he didn't move. He could feel Nigel’s heart breaking from above him, and still, he didn't move. He held still, refusing to let the feelings come, refusing to let himself bleed, knowing that it would be easier this way. In silence, he would find numbness. In silence, Nigel would walk away. It was easier on everyone. The selfless thing to do, really. 

And then he smelled it. 

Hazelnut. 

The room had reeked of sweat and slick and pheromones during their first heat together, but in the undertones, Adam could catch whiff of hazelnut. A cheap air freshener, usually kept in cars, hanging off the doorknob. The scent always took him back to the hotel room where he'd been deflowered, where Nigel had pinned him down and made love to him for the very first time. The hotel room where they'd found hope, where they'd fallen in love with an idea, where they'd mated. Where it had all began. 

That was it. 

Adam had been searching for the point of liftoff since they'd gotten the news, since the tragedy struck them and they were left in the rubble. He'd been searching for the point of liftoff, to count the seconds between liftoff and crashland, but he hadn't found it until then. It had been in that hotel room, with the hazelnut air freshener and the scent of sex and sweat and slick. It had come in the utterance of his name, in the brush of fingertips, in the first gush of slick. In that room, where hope had been born and a new, better life had opened up before them, only to be robbed from them. That room. That room had been the point of liftoff. 

It was what pushed him over. The scent of hazelnut candles burning beneath a flurry of other scents, that one being the one he kept closest to his bed. With that, it all came bursting forth, the pain blooming in his chest and taking him like a heart attack. Tears sprung to his eyes as sobs wracked through his body, pulling him into Nigel again, face buried into his neck. And Nigel held him closer still. 

“I'm sorry,” he sobbed. “I'm sorry,” for the miscarriage. “I'm sorry,” for the defects. “I'm sorry,” for the cysts. “I'm sorry,” for the infertility. “I'm sorry,” for pulling away. “I'm sorry,” for being the thief of all the things they had ever wanted. 

Adam sobbed, begging for forgiveness, through Nigel’s insistence that he was not guilty, until his sobs turned to sniffles, and the sniffles turned to a steady flow of tears. Until the house was returned to silence once more.


End file.
